My holiday technically began at 5pm yesterday.
I mean, that’s when the out of office was switched on, which is the start of a holiday, right?
But no, my holiday did not begin at 5pm yesterday.
Because yesterday I had a HUGE to-do list before I could even leave he office.
My holiday didn’t even begin when I got home.
Because when I got home, I had hoovering to do and a bathroom to clean.
My holiday did not even begin when I went round to my friend’s house.
Because when I went to my friend’s house, I had pizza to eat.
My holidays did not begin when my mother came round to stay before our early flight.
Because when my mother came round, I had a world to put to rights.
My holiday did not begin when I got up at 5.30am this morning.
Because at 5.30am this morning, I had an ashtanga yoga practice to do.
And a cinnamon scone to eat.
My holiday did not even begin when I got on the plane at 10am.
Because on the plane, I had a magazine to read and snoozing to catch up on.
My holiday did not begin when I got on the tube.
Because on the tube, I had tickets to organise, and shiny London people to stare at.
My holiday ACTUALLY began at lunchtime.
Because at lunchtime, as well as a menu, I was presented with a wine list.
And everybody knows that the holiday doesn’t REALLY begin until you have had that first drink.
There really is no feeling like it.